Monday, December 31, 2007

Over the weekend, I ran 3.5 miles with Pepper at Radnor and 5.5 miles with two buddies at Percy Warner Park. Running with a dog and running with friends is very different than running alone. Ah, you say, running is running. As Lee Corso would say, "Not so fast, my friend."

Running with a dog not quite two years old is challenging enough. He wants to sniff everything and everybody. Throw in the mix that one of every three folks at the park have their own dog, some of them not so friendly, and your run becomes a tug-a-thon between you and your dog. Now add the fact that your dog, who is deaf, likes to veer on occasion underneath you (he can't hear my footsteps), and you have the perfect storm ... a cluster run. Running with Pepper in the neighborhood is a little easier, but we have a few dogs who like to mess with us. All that said, it's a blast to take Pepper for runs. He loves it, and so do I. Good bonding time.

Running with friends is wholly different. Yesterday at 3 p.m., I met friends Kris Kemp and Michael Kohl at the gates of Percy Warner. Kris wanted to run the horse or walking trails, but I lobbied for a run on the asphalt because of the recent rain. I like my new Brooks shoes clean. So we headed up the steep steps at the front of the park, then veered right. We cut off part of the 5.8 mile loop, reducing it just a shade.

The weather yesterday was absolutely perfect for taking on the park's steep hills. The biggest challenge is Three Mile Hill, a steep 0.7 mile incline. In the summer, I've had some bad experiences on this hill when I've been out of shape. Bonk city, in fact. I was curious how I would take the hill on such a perfect day with two friends and some recent good hill running at Radnor. When we started up the slope, I felt light, almost frisky. We were running at an easy pace up to that point, probably a 9:15 pace or slower. I didn't fall off that pace much up the hill. In fact, I actually felt like busting up the hill midway up, but didn't want to be anti-social. At the top, we regrouped and returned to group running. Before I knew it, we were back at our cars. That's what happens with group running ... it goes by so quickly. Conversation, when humorous (Michael Kohl is a trip) and interesting (I enjoy talking current events with Kris), makes a 55-minute run seem like a 20-minute trot.

After some good running, I'm all about reaping some rewards. Every year, Mark Faulkner, the deacon at our church who has been dear to Dori and my family, and his wife Sue throw a pre-New Year's Eve Party. It's always a lot of fun with good food. Everyone brings a dish and the Faulkners provide the booze. I brought some Texas-style brisket and whole chickens that I smoked the day before. Toss in some tasty nine-layer dip, husk-wrapped tamales, fried mushrooms and cheese, and a few Coronas, and I was one happy 42-year-old. My friends Tony and Mary Belle Grande and Michael then joined me for a beverage or two at the Corner Pub. It was GREAT to get out of the house, see friends and frequent a neighborhood haunt. Of course, due to last night's "sinning" and an approaching cold front, I'm heading off to Radnor soon for another run. Kathryn wants to join me, so we'll be doing 2.5 miles max.

Dori feels great; she's on the treadmill the Antonys gave her listening to 80s tunes. She and I are looking forward to this year, as you can imagine. Happy New Year, everyone!

Sunday, December 30, 2007

The love and support for Dori continue. Over the last 48 hours, two selfless people, one a good friend and neighbor and the other someone I barely know, made $250 contributions to the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. It's a good time to do that, before the book closes on the year (link still active on this blog). The neighbor's contribution didn't surprise me. He and his wife are caring people who would give you the shirts off their backs. The "mystery contribution" was perplexing.

Here's what I've deduced. When I received the e-mail alert about the contribution, I recognized the person's name, but couldn't place it. After a quick Googling, I found the contributor runs a law firm here in town. When I saw his photo, I knew I'd met him a time or two at neighborhood meetings. I was impressed by him, but again, I don't really know him. Then, I recalled his interest and involvement in Civil War history, and that was it! He apparently Google'd the Battle of Nashville and read my recent entry on this blog. Either that or he has a connection to leukemia, or both.

I plan to call him and thank him after the New Year, but this episode clearly shows the Internet community is a powerful, often uniting place. Like you have an extended neighborhood. I undertook the blog endeavor this summer knowing some crazies are out there. I also believe there is a lot of good that can be done, too, through blogs, links and the like. My theory has been proven and my faith in my fellow man has been bolstered.

Other not-so-random acts of kindness continue. Stacy (one of my New York cousins), who I haven't seen in years, sent the the most scrumpdeli-icious basket of cookies and brownies, individually wrapped I might add, from Cheryl & Co. The kids and I have been hammering them, and Dori has been dabbling, too. Other cousins above the Mason-Dixon line, like Mike and Laura, have been in touch with e-mails and prayerful notes. It's like this every day - we get quite a few e-mails and calls from folks. When I'm at church, at the grocery store, wherever, people just want to say they care. I did notice I hadn't heard from a few good friends for awhile, but gradually they've gotten in touch. The recurring theme ... serious illnesses either terrify them or cause them to revisit a serious illness that afflicted or claimed a family member. Their call or card says how sorry they are about being out of pocket or not being more supportive. I completely understand how they feel. Clearly, everyone reacts differently to tragedies or major challenges. We've seen it through longtime friends and new ones at the hospital.

As Dori recovers, I've begun to think more globally again. I have many friends in politics, because of my career choices (journalism, etc.) and my activism over the years. My good friends know me as a moderate who leans conservative on some things, less so on others. I like to weigh both sides of an issue before I decide, rather than read and stamp the party literature. I prefer to assess candidates on their positions, their character and their fitness for the job.

I'm really intrigued by this year's presidential primaries because it appears people are fed up with the establishment, Republican and Democrat. The bitterness that's built the last 15 years has either caused people to tune out completely (not the best idea for the health of our republic) or seek alternative candidates not wholly backed by the parties. My friends, moderate, conservative and liberal, all seem to agree both major parties and their key leaders at the national level have squandered the trust they've been given. A few have even done what my dog does to the bushes at the corner of our yard (and we're the shrubbery, folks). The people who run the parties have completely forgotten we're all Americans who expect some compromise and solutions now and then. Many people want the "it's their fault, not ours" language to get 86'd.

I believe this frustration, even exasperation, explains the rise of candidates Mike Huckabee and Barack Obama. Of the lot, they are the two who seem most like you and me. Both have run populist campaigns, focusing their message on rejecting Beltway tactics. They have articulated their positions as solutions, not as clubs to bludgeon their opponents. Their backgrounds and upbringing are intriguing. Both talk to people, not through them. And look who's supporting them: Chuck Norris is stumping for Huckabee, while Oprah has embraced Obama. Not the norm, for sure. Also, the Ron Paul thing seems like a version of the 1992 Perot phenomenon, and I know several people who wouldn't mind a John McCain-Joe Lieberman ticket.

People are fed up. The Iowa caucuses and New Hampshire primary should begin to sort out if we're going to get on a better track or stay on the same old scary Willy Wonka boatride. Personally, I'm rooting for populism and against the vitriolic, over-funded ranting by the establishment.

Friday, December 28, 2007

I ran a 5.0 mile run in 42:45 yesterday at Radnor Lake. That's an 8:33 pace!

Conditions yesterday were perfect - 45 degrees, not much wind. I thought of Dori the last 1.75 miles when I accelerated to an 8:00 mile pace. I ran for her, her courage and her progress. From 2.5 to 3.25, the Radnor run is straight uphill, steep in several parts. There are no breaks and it can wind you; then, when you think you've had enough, you reach the apex and get a gradual decline for .75 miles and then a flat 1.0 mile run along the lake. If you're not waxed, you feel like you can push hard, like you've been rewarded for conquering that hill.

I'm jazzed by this run. My best 5.0 mile run the last year or so was right at 40:00, an 8:00 pace, along the Stones River Greenway behind the Donelson Y. On a flat course yesterday, I may have neared that, maybe in the 41:00 or 41:30 range. My best 5K last year was my only 5K, the Firecracker 5K in Brentwood, at 24:01, or a 7:47 pace (on a muggy, warm morning). I would have beat that yesterday.

Total mileage for the week: 27.4 miles and no aches or pains. Today is a rest day, then back at it this weekend.

Thursday, December 27, 2007

When Dori came home before Christmas, a familiar feeling overcame me. Run, boy!

After Friday's 5.6 miler, I've run the following:

Saturday: 5.0 miles at Radnor LakeSunday: 3.8 miles in our neighborhood with PepperTuesday: 4.5 miles at RadnorWednesday: 3.5 miles at Radnor with Pepper

Week to date: 22.4 miles ... That's the most since before the half marathon in September and I've still got today! I might crank out another 4-6 miles this afternoon, time permitting. I'm actually beginning to feel a little bit of fitness benefit from the week's effort. On the Tuesday run, I ran the last mile in 8:00 or so and didn't feel winded. Very cool.

Tuesday's Christmas run through Radnor was special. First, as I was nearing the end of mile one, I saw two familiar blondes ahead of me. Might that be? Could it be? Yes! That's my Mom and sister! I stopped the run and walked a wonderful couple of miles with them around the lake. We saw a herd of eight healthy deer, which was a beautiful sight. My Mom, whose knees have taken a beating over the years, was feeling good enough to enjoy the walk and the stunning scenery. After a Christmas hug, I took off to run another 3.5.

I love Radnor most during the winter, when the hills seem to just fall in the lake and the blue sky seems endless on clear days. Spring and fall are nice, too, but the lake just sparkles during winter. Not enough friends of mine and other folks take advantage of our parks and recreation, I believe. Those who do rave about it. The health benefits, peacefulness and family connecting are free, ever since the state revoked that silly visitation fee a few years ago.

This week's running has been cathartic. Some runs have been introspective, while others have just been about pounding pavement and expending excessive "couch energy" that builds this time of year. Toss in a few bad carbs (and some good ones), and it just makes sense to burn that fuel.

My sturdy Brooks running shoes seem to be doing the trick. I've had a day or two of minor back soreness, but some ibuprofen pills clear that up pretty quickly. My legs and calf muscles feel great. With the exception of the one quick mile, I've been running at a 9:00 minute pace or above. All this has me in a good frame of mind ... I've got a base again. Will I be able to train for a race soon? If Dori stays on track, I would think so. My job will have some very busy moments the next few months, but if I can get in 2-3 early morning runs and one long run each weekend, why not?

The Country Music Marathon is in late April. I've run that two years in a row, though the race has been a nemesis of mine. I bonked two years ago at mile 11 and ran a 2:06; last year, I woke up feeling under the weather and ran a slow 2:09. I'd really like to show that course who's boss now. Even though I was proud of my 2:01 at Virginia Beach, I know there is another level to reach before I get too old. Sub-2:00 would be nice. I also still think about running a full, but I know trying for that, with all that's going on in my life, isn't realistic or smart for my family. Hold that thought, right?

My grandmother turned 90 yesterday. We celebrated at my Dad's. My favorite part of the night was when Will, 7, bear-hugged Gigi, 83 years his senior. Both kids are playing basketball, which is loads of fun to watch. Kathryn has improved a lot since last year, and Will's season starts soon. The boy has some game and smiles the whole time he plays. I'm encouraging Dori, at some point this season, to make a few games. She's super-cautious, but hasn't ruled it out.

Tuesday, December 25, 2007

This morning's readings at 8:30 Mass were wonderful, as was the music. The kids and I arrived early enough to be on the front row in front of the Nativity Scene. Kathryn and I held hands much of the Mass and sang our lungs out.

... A son is given to us. The grace of God has appeared to all. Today a Savior has been born for you. ...

Monday, December 24, 2007

Dori and I are at the outpatient clinic at Vanderbilt the morning of this beautiful Christmas Eve. I've spent the last few days gathering myself from this year's hectic pace, relaxing and running, but most of all, thinking about this year and what it all means.

Dori looks terrific today. She's wearing a snazzy outfit - a shiny gold hat/wrap, red sweater with a silver necklace, and slacks with black boots. We just saw Tammy Hart, who made it home before Christmas. She also looks great. Both Dori and Tammy have the look survivors have, that "I'm really fortunate to be here." It's a gift few of us can appreciate.

As most of you know, this blog is not only about Dori's battle against leukemia, but also my journey alongside her. It has been a wonderful place of communication and reflection for me. My life changed on June 15. I remember the day so vividly ... I was very excited that Friday morning, eager to vacation with my family for the first time in two years. Dori didn't feel great that week, but I was so sure we were still going to be able to load up the car and spend six days at a secluded cabin in the Smokies. When Dori called me at work, I knew something was very wrong.

Fast forward four days later, when Dr. Greer told Dori she had an acute leukemia. On a day I should have been tossing flies at trout in a cold stream in the Great Smokies National Park, I was dealing with my wife's and my own feelings of devastation, shock and anxiety. I was telling my tearful children that Mommy was very sick and we would need to do everything possible to help her recover. Life as I knew it was over.

As the shock wore off, I knew I needed a game plan. First, I needed support. To make everything work, I needed to spend supportive time with Dori. My employer stepped up and worked with me on FMLA and a flexible work schedule. People called and e-mailed, offering to get the kids to places and to bring us meals. Through friends, we adopted a meal schedule that has been enormously helpful in keeping us well fed. To no one's surprise, my family members and Dori's family members answered the bell: "Just let us know, Jim, what you need." People have sacrificed income and personal time. Getting support was the easy part, thanks to the generosity of so many good people.

The hard part was dealing with Dori's and the kids' emotions through several valleys last summer. There were deeply disappointing days, like when Dori didn't reach remission after the first round of chemo and when the kids, in late July, wouldn't stop moping or fighting. My only answer during these times was prayer - for calmness and support as I helped my family believe we were going in the right direction, even as we were given what seemed like endless bad news. Those days were my best and worst - best when I was able to help everyone end their fixation on the negative and worst when I lost my patience with the kids.

There were also fantastic days, like when the team on 11 North lined the halls and cheered Dori as she left the hospital. Other wonderful days would follow. I recall in late August, through a donor drive we helped organize and publicize, when 150 giving people showed up to register for the national bone marrow donor program. I recall the morning of September 2, when my sister and I cried before I ran a half marathon in Virginia in Dori's honor and to raise $25,000 for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society.

I clearly recall when Dori thanked me for never telling her how to feel or what to do in the hospital, while giving my unwavering support. Resisting my normal instincts, I shied away last summer from rah-rah Knute Rockne speeches. Dori responds better to gentle encouragement and empathy (the carrot more than the stick). She definitely sorts things out at her own pace, not like the trigger-happy folks in my family. Thankfully, I adjusted and delivered what she needed.

We were aware, the day Dori left the hospital in early August, this fight was nowhere near over. Dori had to decide if she would get a transplant. Her odds of survival if she didn't were very low. Other odds that were shared weren't much more comforting. Maybe one day, five years from now, I'll share what we were told. Our focus, then and now, isn't on odds but on complete victory. We took Lance Armstrong's words to heart. Who needs odds when you know what the goal is? Dori, who is analytical (she's the smart one in the family), was mesmerized at first by the odds. I reasoned differently, arguing to Dori those odds are for people who aren't you. People who haven't taken care of themselves over the course of their lives. People who aren't completely resolved to see their daughter's wedding or children graduate from college. People who aren't Dorothy Sawyer Brown.

For Dori and me, this fall's transplant was the hardest time. Dori's body was no less than brutalized by the process. At the worst part, she was so weakened as to be barely recognizable. A severe, near-catastrophic fall in the shower didn't help matters. Three weeks after the transplant, Dori was coughing up significant amounts of blood and breathing with difficulty. She gained 27 pounds in two days from the fluids. She went to the bathroom every 35 minutes, needing help or a spotter each time. Friends and family posted an around-the-clock watch on Dori because she was in such poor condition. I will never forget what one of the doctors told me on the elevator one day. As Dori began to regain strength and control of her bodily functions, she said, "We're happy Dori is coming back. She was really scaring us." Yeah, us too.

I wish I had a dollar for every time everyone said, "I don't know how you're doing this, Jim." It almost makes me chuckle inside, even though I know what they meant. When I took my vows 13 years ago, I recall it was "for better or worse" and "in sickness and in health." Similarly, people would say, "How do you find the time to train for your half marathon?" The run was a stress relief for me, but the run was mostly for Dori. How do you honor your wife, her courage, the support of other strong people around her and God's gift of life? You run, you don't hide.

I've been no walk in the park over some of our marriage, and Dori has stood by me at every moment. When I disliked my job seven years ago and acted stupidly or selfishly, Dori supported me. After Kathryn was born, Dori told me she was converting to Catholicism "so our family can be in church together." Every time I focused on me and didn't think of the consequences to others, she sacrificed and never complained. After I woke up and realized what I was capable of, I realized I owed her in a big way. I still do. I've been a much better husband the last several years. When our crisis started this summer, it was time to high jump over every bar.

Dori is 75 days away from her transplant. Her voice is stronger, and her eyes are starting to show some fire. She is no longer meek and weakened. Soon, she will be bossing me around, taking over more duties and chores around the house. We might even have an argument again one day. I never thought I would think that would be cool.

Dori and I have spent much of this year climbing out of valleys, and yes, scaling mountains, too. Hopefully, we will be able to reap the rewards of our collective efforts for many years. Knock on wood and keep praying, Dori will continue to get better. Then, I would bet the farm on a banner year for the Browns. We talk often of making a difference in the lives of others. We're not sure where life will take us, but we certainly have a perspective we didn't have before. God has given us, two people in love, a great gift, much like the gift of Christmas - a chance to fulfill His promise on earth with renewed purpose.

I spent some of the last few days putting together a Christmas iMix for Dori and the kids. My Mom likes the iPod playing at her famous dinners, and this year's Christmas picks should have her and our family toe-tappin' and reminiscing while enjoying our favorite Yuletide beverages. The kids, Kathryn especially, have been loving these songs the last few days ... Christmas music just goes across every generation, which the Lord may have intended.

I submitted this iMix titled "Christmas Songs for Dori" yesterday. It should be available sometime soon for your perusal. The iMix only took 17 of my 30 picks, so here's the full list if you're thinking about making your own compilation. Some of my favorites are "Skating" by the Vince Guaraldi Trio, "A Holly Jolly Christmas" by Burl Ives, "Bring a Torch, Jeannette, Isabella" by Mannheim Steamroller and "Carol of the Bells" by David Benoit. The last three songs are from pianist Larry Mayfield, whose daughter Shelley used to babysit the kids. They're all great ... Enjoy!

Friday, December 21, 2007

Whew. Man, do I need the Christmas break! I am so thankful it is finally here and that Dori is home.

I like Christmas, but not as much as Thanksgiving. That's the way I've always been. Kathryn and I talked a lot today, and she asked me what I like about Christmas. "Celebrating the birth of Jesus and being with family ... the presents not as much," I said. "Me, too," she chimed in. To me, Christmas seems so materialistic in our country. I really do think Kathryn and Will both have done a good job of not craving or wanting things. That's been important to Dori and me. We like nice things, but things don't make people happy.

I rode the bike for 30 minutes and lifted for another 30 at the Y early Tuesday. I spent the rest of that day at the clinic with Dori and working some on the phone and computer. My sister Anne went to the clinic today with Dori, while Kathryn and I had some quality father-daughter time (Will is with some buddies). Dori's medical team is encouraged with her progress. Last week stunk, to be honest; this week has been much better. The dermatologists called this week to tell us Dori's rash was the result of a drug reaction, not GVHD. They are treating the rash, which is almost gone, with steroids. Dori looks as good as I've seen since late September. What a joyous time it will be next year to have her at full strength and doing the things she enjoys doing. But trust me, right now is a joyous time!

Realizing I'm looking at a few days of ale and some bad carbs, I went running today. It was almost warm ... low 60s with a slight breeze. I ran 5.6 miles at a modest pace over some moderate terrain. The last two miles were up a steady incline, and I felt it. At 4.6, I stopped for a smidgeon, gathered myself, and finished the last mile. I'm not in great shape anymore, which isn't surprising ... I just haven't had any time to crank out some miles. My calf muscles felt very good today, which was encouraging. I do wish the owner of a light brown spaniel/hunting dog would get an electric fence for Christmas. Their dog would not back down after trying to bite me ... I got so angry I went after the dog. Maybe I need the fence.

Christmas is almost here ... we don't have many traditions, except watching "It's a Wonderful Life" this week and having a big dinner at my Mom's (prime rib usually and I hear that's on the menu again). Seems like we often watch "The Sound of Music" this time of year and listen to Christmas CDs we've bought over the years. We don't usually go to the Children's Mass, but might do so this year.

If you're so inclined, do share your Christmas or holiday traditions. As Eddie Murphy said in "Trading Places" ... "Merry New Year!"

Monday, December 17, 2007

Yesterday, after I got Dori home from the hospital (big yahoo), I went for my first run in more than a week. Those who know some history know we Nashvillians live where one of the most decisive battles of the Civil War was fought. The Union routed the Confederacy on Dec. 15-16, 1864, with the culmination coming the afternoon of the 16th on the hallowed grounds of Shy's Hill, which Union forces overran around 4 p.m.

That's precisely the time I went running yesterday - the foot of Shy's Hill in my neighborhood. Most of the streets are named after generals or captains from the battle. Thousands died here or near here. We have pulled bullets, shrapnel, musket balls and belt buckles from our yard, as have many of our neighbors in theirs. The bloodiness of that day seems so surreal, like my run in frigid conditions yesterday. It was such a peaceful day, in stark contrast to that chaotic day 143 years ago. Here's a link or two about the battle.

Kathryn and Will enjoy hiking with me occasionally to the peak of Shy's Hill, which has been preserved somewhat by an area society. The kids ask questions about the battle and war in general, like, "Why do people fight, Dad?" They were aware all week of the pending anniversary of the battle, which we talked about several times. Kathryn also asked about the evil of Nazi Germany the other day. I am proud they have taken an interest to history.

I am troubled by how little many people know about our nation's history, my favorite subject in school and favorite reading topic today. Around eighth grade, I stopped whining about history. By my senior year, I liked it. By the time I entered the Navy (and dried out from college), I loved it. Doris Kearns Goodwin's book "Team of Rivals" about Lincoln's cabinet is my most recent read. I haven't had much time this year to read a good book, but I look forward to pounding a few in 2008. I so wish our schools (and parents) would encourage more reading early and often in kids' lives. Many kids today know little about civics and our past.

I have to share something that's been on my mind the last week ... I am disheartened by how inconsiderate many folks have become. Today's Nashville isn't the genteel Nashville of 10 or 20 years ago. I'm dismayed by prevalent anger and selfishness, which I see or experience every day in my life. For example, my drive to and from work has become a farce. The road rage and NASCAR me-first mentality is out of control. Some drivers trail your back bumper so close, you often can't see their front bumper, just their mug yapping on their cell phone or looking angrily at you for making their drive 30 seconds longer.

Overall, I'm an NPR-Public Television kinda guy. I like the news without an edge, like the show Frontline on PBS. That said, I will listen to some sports talk. More and more, I have to turn it off because it's less about analysis and information and more about whining and yelling. Occasionally, I think, "Is that what we fought those wars for ... to behave like this?" I hope not.

Whenever I find myself dismayed, I come back to realizing how fortunate I am ... I have a great wife and kids, family, job and life. I know thousands of people I like and respect (yes, some of them probably trail bumpers by only a few feet at high speeds in heavy traffic). I'm really in control of one thing ... me ... and that's enough to worry about.

All in all, I'm one heckuva lucky spud on this earth, living one day at a time like the rest of us.

Saturday, December 15, 2007

Dori will not come home today ... the doctors are keeping her at least another day, despite the fact she's had no fever for 48 hours. Her persistent rash is both better and worse ... a little better on her chest but probably a little worse on her legs and abdomen. Since I was with the kids this morning and not at the morning consultation, my guess is the docs are playing it safe so she does not have to be readmitted soon.

Spending her birthday at VUMC was a downer for Dori and us. Though we expect her to be home soon, I (we) have to start preparing mentally for more extended visits like this one. It's not likely Dori will be at the hospital on Christmas, but I'm thinking about how we would handle that. Not negative thinking, just practical planning. I sure hope we don't have to go there. That would be rough on Dori and the kids. When school stops next week, my biggest wish is Dori will not be in the hospital. That's all I really want for Christmas.

I have been easier on the kids, except when it comes to staying in routines and doing routine chores. Easier by not making them eat all their vegetables, sneaking in a few extra treats, things like that. We've also been doing a lot of talking and hugging. A product of the military, I embrace routine and expect it from Kathryn and Will. The kids do well at times with their chores (making beds, cleaning rooms, etc.), while at other times they don't. They know what to expect if they underperform ... lost privileges, and if it goes on, some verbal fireworks from Pop. I needed and benefited from routine in my life ... when I played competitive golf, at work, etc. I was a good student when I stayed in a routine, a mediocre one when I fell out of one. Routine has been so important to the kids this year ... there were out of a routine this summer and had a tough time in late July and August. This fall, they've been pretty good with everything.

The kids and I went to Mafiaoza's on 12 Avenue for lunch. The food was excellent. I bought some wine and specialty ales, the latter of which I plan to enjoy later today, from Vinea next door. Cool store, though pricey. Beer (hoppy, dark and fruity) tastes good when it's cold outside like now. We brought Dori some angel hair pasta with marinara for lunch. It was the first time the kids have seen Dori in a week.

Kathryn has a cough, so we may have to find her a bed with a relative when Dori returns. Lots of folks have a bug right now (I'm hearing coughs everywhere ... the restaurant, hospital, work). There'll be no getting near my girl with any germs. I've spent much of today cleaning, doing laundry and wiping down our house ... and will do more tomorrow.

Friday, December 14, 2007

It's lunchtime at the hospital and I haven't blogged in awhile. I've had a lot on my plate and a lot on my mind. Seems like that's a major theme of 2007.

I thought about one of my favorite movies, "It's a Wonderful Life," the other day. One of the bankers Dori helped to hire several years ago let Dori know he wouldn't be where he is today without her. This touched Dori, as it would any of us. I believe Dori has had so many hits on CaringBridge because she has touched so many people, directly like this banker and indirectly. Dori (and I) have so much for which to be thankful and this gratitude fuels our desire to help and connect with people. We share the same values, which is a big reason our marriage (or any marriage) can continue to grow and endure.

Anyway, I love "It's a Wonderful Life." Some critics and nega-holics say it's corny and contrived. Those movies, I would answer, are often the best kind. It may be a reason why I love the movies I do ... Hoosiers, Saving Private Ryan, etc. ... even if they intentionally pull a string or two. Isn't that the point? I watch "It's a Wonderful Life" over EVERY Christmas break. I usually get emotional, connecting with Jimmy Stewart and his situation, like many of us. I would bet we all know someone like Jimmy Stewart ... whether it's their plight or their character. I have a friend from college, Joe, whose optimism and bubbling energy are just like Jimmy Stewart's. He likes people and wants to help them. I'm glad I know Joe. "It's a Wonderful Life" is on network TV tonight, and my hope is many new folks wade through the many commercials and enjoy this movie.

Will had his first Reconciliation this morning. I'm very proud of him and how he carries himself. He possesses some great leadership qualities ... he is a good listener, likes people, and is optimistic and can take charge when needed. Kathryn has a basketball game tomorrow. Her coach told her yesterday to shoot more, after last week's good game.

Dori is sleeping right now. She has one heckuva rash, but her temp is a very nice 98.8. Dori and I aren't convinced the rash is GVHD-related, since it flared after three days here. We think it's drug-related, but both of us never completed med school. Wink, nod. Her appetite remains strong, and she rode the bike this morning. No transfusions, either, so maybe she gets to go home soon.

I have not run this week at all, and I feel it. I get antsier the longer it goes. I did manage to crank out a respectable presentation Tuesday morning to 400 people. My concern going in was the lack of time I had to prepare, but I managed to find time late Monday and very early Tuesday to prep adequately. Part of a two-hour program, the speech is running periodically on local access TV. After watching it, I still have some things upon which to improve.

Despite the challenges of this week, our ship looks good ... the big picture is where we need to continually keep our focus. Getting sidetracked is normal, but not good for any lengthy period.

Monday, December 10, 2007

You may recall we likened getting the news about leukemia in June to catching a big sack of bricks off the top of a building; re-entering VUMC has been more like catching a small sack of rocks or something. The cumulative effect of all this is difficult, no matter how strong you are. It's never a hopeless feeling, just a constant wearing down that you acknowledge and deal with. Each time, you just summon up more energy, which I have been able to do time and time again. This last day or so, it has been hard to find enough.

The last day-and-a-half has been a period of adjustment. This morning was the roughest ... I was looking at an exhausted wife from high fever, a presentation to give tomorrow morning to 400 people and other obligations the next few days. I adjusted today by simplifying the schedule, talking and thinking through how I feel, praying, and getting something in my belly. I feel better this afternoon ... regrouped enough to blog, eh?

Humor has helped. I started cracking jokes again after lunch. Chuck Hendry and Dori, along with Kim Swindall, are all back at VUMC. I quipped they're just cashing in their Marriott Rewards. Not Zanies-level material, but a joke. I started telling other jokes, some a little too colorful for this venue. Another one that comes to mind ... I saw Dori's 18 bottles of pills stacked up and told her she was making Barry Bonds proud. I need to keep laughing ... it bolsters my spirits.

When I arrived at the hospital this morning, I was told Dori's fever maxed at 102.2. False info ... Turns out it peaked at 103.6. High fever works your blood cells hard, and as a result, Dori has been very tired today. Dori will get an "EGD" (in her gastrointestinal tract) tomorrow to check for Graft Versus Host Disease. She's getting antibiotics today and the fever has been abating. Hopefully, this visit, her fourth to VUMC, will be a very short stay.

I recently counted total time here this year at 99 days. June 2007 seems like it was three years ago. That's part of the wearing down you have to face. I haven't let it out much lately, like crying, but when I read the CaringBridge post about Kathryn's fourth grade class saying a Hail Mary for Dori this morning, I lost it. It's alright to cry, as Rosie Greer sang on Sesame Street many years ago. Sung only like a touchy-feely All-Pro defensive tackle in the 70s.

Kathryn sings tonight in the school Christmas choir, which Will and I will attend. Tomorrow, I'll make my presentation, swing by the office briefly and come be with my girl again.

Sunday, December 9, 2007

I'm blogging from the clinic at Vanderbilt ... Dori and I have been here all day. It's not the day, her 40th birthday, either of us planned.

This morning, the kids and I dressed for church. As we were leaving, Dori said her temperature was 100.5. Not good. I called the doctor on call, who said we need to visit the clinic. Dori packed her clothes for an extended stay, we dropped off the kids at my Mom's and here we are. Dori's mood is as you would expect, and glass-half-full Jim isn't much peppier.

Dori has read her birthday cards from the kids and me, but she hasn't opened her presents yet. We'll do that later today on 11 North, along with enjoying the special request dinner my Mom is making for her.

It isn't uncommon to be readmitted after a transplant. Dori knows this, so she's not desolate. She's feeling about how most folks would feel ... disappointed and a little bit concerned. Even though I'm watching all of this, I still cannot imagine how she really feels on top of everything else - with the drug cocktail she takes twice daily, the ongoing fatigue, the ups and downs emotionally - basically a lot of you-know-what. I know how I feel - bummed for her.

Despite all of this tough news, there is good news. Kathryn played her second basketball game this year, and she played a very good game. She scored four points, grabbed several rebounds and stuck her nose in the mix several times on defense. I asked her what her favorite sport is among cross country, basketball and soccer ... and hoops is her Number One. She's improved a lot since last year, which makes her parents proud. I was also proud of Will, who celebrated Kathryn's success during the game.

I ran my longest run yesterday since the Virginia Beach Half Marathon in early September. It's one of my favorites - an out-and-back to Belmont University, about 7 miles. Because of all the holiday weekend traffic (waiting at stoplights), a three minute water-and-refuel stop at The Athlete's House and a short walk up the hill at Belmont Park Terrace, the run took 70 minutes. Actual running time was probably about 65 minutes, maybe a little less. I felt very good, except up the steep hill at mile six, which I walked briefly because of minor calf muscle stress. Better not to incur injury than be a superhero.

Today, Dori is 40. Today is Day 60 post transplant. That adds up to 100. That's the goal of this race ... get to Day 100 and put all of this difficulty behind us.

Friday, December 7, 2007

I'm in a silly mood, so I thought I'd post some photos of some silly characters. I searched and found about 12 characters from the past, many of them Muppets, that have made me laugh over the years. Here are three - old fuddy-duddies Statler and Waldorf and Guy Smiley, the Muppet game show host. Guy Smiley made me and my sister, Anne, howl when we were younger. I'll probably post some others over the next few weeks. If you're in to leaving comments, leave a favorite cartoon or real character who just makes you lose it. More to follow.

This week was nerve-wracking yet productive. Dori's temperature was above normal much of the week, but it never crossed 100.4, which is a ticket back to VUMC. Dori has managed to keep pressing forward. Despite progress, none of this is easy. She is still dealing with side effects and is understandably missing the normal Christmas traditions, parties and activities. We keep focusing on next year for that; meanwhile, Dori has made it through so much to be with us. I'm very excited about Sunday ... Dori turns 40!!! My plans earlier this year to blow it out have been shelved; instead, we're planning a low key celebration at my Mom's for dinner. And that is totally fine with me.

Work has been both fun and hectic since the job change. I'm managing to stay focused on most everything, I think, despite all the schedule juggling. I like and respect the people with whom I work. I have caught myself a time or two forgetting something, which I almost never do.

Getting up at 4:30 twice this week to run was a good idea, believe it or not. Running, more than anything, clears my head. Monday's 4.0 mile run was cold, but satisfying. On Wednesday morning, I ran another 3.5 and tonight cruised a 3.0 with Pepper, whose dirty coat earned him a bath afterwards. He's not a fan of the tub. Neither was Otis, our black lab, R.I.P. What's really cool about the running this week ... the new running shoes are great - no leg troubles this week!

Don't forget ... tell us about your characters, if you're so inclined.

Sunday, December 2, 2007

Does life get any better than watching Tennessee Head Coach Phil Fulmer react to a bad play? Of course not. Especially with beer in hand and your recovering wife chortling at each reaction. Dori loves laughing at Phil Fulmer's reactions. Fan or no fan, how can you not!?!

Yesterday, Tennessee flirted with winning the SEC championship against LSU. The teams are my least favorite in the SEC. LSU because their fans too often go into foul-mouth tirades around my children and UT because they are, well, UT. I have softened a bit over the years on UT. I have a lot of friends who like the Vols, people I respect a lot. It's just ... well ... that color ... and a large number of obnoxious fans ... and that song. I do like Pat Head, the women's basketball coach. She's a class act. But Bruce Pearl and Fulmer? C'mon. On at least three occasions, CBS showed Fulmer's twisting body and contorted face after Vol interceptions, missed kicks or mistakes. I couldn't find any clips of Jabba the Orange on YouTube, but maybe the photos I've posted give you a sense.

During the game, a few comments and items caught my attention. The first was when CBS announcer Verne Lundquist said LSU quarterback Ryan Perilloux was suspended earlier this season for getting in a "late night altercation." Diplomatic, don't you think? Here's an alternative take on these incidents: "The player was suspended because he was drunk at 3 a.m. in a bar, then proceeded to assault a patron." Later, the proverbial phrase "suspended for a violation of team rules" was used. Don't you think coaches use that so they don't have to tell you what the player has done, more so to protect the program than the kid. Later, Lundquist, who I like, used the word "sardonic" on the telecast. How many folks watching the game knew what that means? Betchya most though of little smelly fishies in a tin can.

I was delighted to see Hardee's has brought back the "philly cheesesteak thickburger." Please! Don't we have enough folks having coronaries and bypasses? As presidential candidate Mike Huckabee says, "We don't have a health care crisis ... we have a health crisis." This issue is important to me ... one I avoid blogging about because I get on a soapbox. So I'll be brief. We're eating ourselves (among several vices) into a national crisis of epic proportions.

Did you see the LSU staff shielding QB Perilloux from the cameras while they were working on his hurt finger? It's ridiculous how seriously these folks take themselves, as if that bit of knowledge was going to be the deciding factor in the football game. I laughed when the CBS crew said they could understand the secrecy if he were having a finger removed. It's football. Fun, not life or death.

Back to more serious matters ... Remember how we feel about coincidences around here? The other night before she went to sleep, Dori read Psalm 103: 2-4. The next day, she received a card from a friend of her sister's with the same psalm:

"Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits ... who healeth all thy diseases; Who redeemeth thy life ... who crowneth thee with loving kindness."

Speaking of healing ... we have a new machine around here. Our friends the Antonys gave Dori a treadmill to help her exercise regimen. It's getting colder and Dori likes to walk. She needs to stay active to regain her strength, so this was a very nice gift! Also nice were two tickets to the Titans game from the DeNunzios for their godson, Will. Nice folk around these parts.

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

I spent the day at home today with Dori, but actually worked a full day. I spent most of the day talking on the phone, planning a few important meetings and drafting some memos. It was great to be home with Dori. She is getting around better each day and eating more foods, too.

Tomorrow, we go to the clinic (I'll work via the phone a good bit of that time), and Dori hopefully will get the cytogentic results from the biopsy. I'll be on the road for work in the afternoon, when my superstar sister Anne takes over the watch. She has been amazing ... I had a delay at work Monday, so I had to work late, and she just took over some duties until I could get home. Don't bet against our team.

This morning, Dori asked me to sit down to tell me something. That usually means I'm in trouble. Not this time! Dori thanked me for being patient with her during the summer and fall, allowing her to work through this challenge in her own way. I can be heavy-handed sometimes and gentle at others, and I know it. I made a conscious effort with Dori to pursue the latter course when she was diagnosed. I recall several times when she was aggravated or I was frustrated with something she did or didn't do, but instead said, "Honey, this is your journey and not anyone else's. You have to sort this out yourself. I am here as your sounding board or for whatever you need." That was what she wanted to hear. A few times, I gave her gentle nudges or found other ways to encourage or discourage her from doing something. It wasn't easy and required my A game. Listening a lot to the nurses and care partners, because they are the experts, was helpful. I also talked a lot to Dori's sister, Anne and my Mom, even the Hendrys, updating them and asking for their thoughts and advice. Smart people who know a lot about a lot. See, I'm no dummy. Just occasionally too blunt.

I had an overwhelming feeling today about how blessed I am. It just hit me. Dori is here, I love my work, I love my kids and family, I have great friends, etc. During lunch, I took mischievous Pepper (pictured above) for a short run and just soaked up his joyful disposition and proud posture as he ran alongside me. I still miss Otis, my handsome, good-natured black lab, dearly. Putting him down in August 2006 was a dreadful experience. Pepper, however, is growing on me after a year-plus with the Family Von Trapp. Only thing ... he can't hear us sing because he's deaf. Too bad, because Kathryn has a lovely voice and plays some sweet Christmas piano.

I can't believe December is almost here. I'm looking forward to the weekend so I can run some key errands, like get Dori a new treadmill and buy some new running shoes, clothes for work and a Christmas tree. I hope I can get my mileage back up soon ... maybe I'll get in a six or seven mile run this weekend. That would be fabulous!

Sunday, November 25, 2007

I had to post some recent photos of Will and me at Vanderbilt football games. He loves the Dores like I do, hard as it can be sometimes. VU finished the season 5-7 with several near misses, including a 25-24 headscratching loss to UT last week.

So my friend Paige Clancy told me about Google Analytics last month, which slices and dices blog visitor activity in many ways. It's geeky, techy stuff, not my forte, but here's what I learned about my blog since I started tracking visitor activity Oct. 30:

- The blog has had 622 visits and 826 pageviews from 210 unique visitors in the first 27 days.- Average time spent on the blog is one minute, two seconds.- Traffic comes direct (52%), from referring sites like CaringBridge.org (33%) and search engines (15%). - The peak number of visits occurred on Wednesday, Nov. 21 (79); the nadir was on Saturday, Nov. 10 (7).- "Sunday's homily" was the No. 1 viewed post (109 visits so far), besides the main page.- 44% of visits are from cable subscribers, 22% from DSL and 17% from T1. The rest are unknown or ISDN.- Most of you browse with Internet Explorer (82%); Firefox (14%) and Safari (4%) are second and third.

I also have linked the blog of Tammy Hart, who Dori met recently. A friend of a friend, Tammy is getting her bone marrow transplant very soon. She's a very good writer who has been through a lot this year. She seems to have the same kind of powerful attitude as Dori, and thankfully, the same kind of support group we have. You are in our prayers, Tammy. The kids and I prayed for you tonight.

What else do I know these days? I know stuffing still makes you sleepy and is a strong adherent. I know my itchy throat and watery eyes are automatic prompts for sleeping on the couch and getting reacquainted with the dog. I know watching Vanderbilt play football is more enjoyable when you bring your kids and their friends and focus on the hot chocolate and funnel cake, not the actual play on the field. Seriously, the Dores were down 31-3 in the third quarter and I was having a blast. Amazing what your wife's AML experience and happy kids will do for perspective. During the game, I actually turned around to a fellow VU fan, who started yelling angrily at a player who was having difficulty tackling. I said, simply, "He's hurt, you know." "Yea, I know," the guy acknowledged. Later, we learned about the young boy from Julia Green who died before the game in a tragic accident (he was hit by a taxicab). That's the ultimate perspective.

Dori will be at the clinic twice this week, on Monday and Thursday. She'll reach the halfway mark to Day 100 on Thursday. Christmas will be here soon, this year with our first artificial tree. Never a fan of the fake tree, we'll enjoy this year's version like the best real tree we ever had.

Friday, November 23, 2007

I woke up early to run the Boulevard Bolt, a five-mile race in beautiful Belle Meade, a third consecutive year. Because my left leg is still bothering me, I was not sure I would finish this race, but gave it the "oh-what-the-hell" effort. I'm glad I did. Despite the tightness and discomfort and having to stop twice to apply more Icy Hot (2-3 minutes of stoppage time), I ran in just over 47 minutes. The great part was running; the hard part was having so much energy but not being able to exert 100% effort. Woulda coulda shoulda ... I had a 40-41 minute race in me, but will more than embrace my time this year!

My Dad and step-Mom Peggy paid us a nice visit after lunch, then we loaded up the car for Thanksgiving Dinner at my Mom's. Joining us at my Mom's and her husband Dan's house - Dori, her Mom Happy, sister Kathy, Kathryn and Will, my sister Anne and her husband Stephen. Mom makes Martha Stewart and Rachael Ray look like third-stringers. I made some smoked sausage stuffing that I brought over. We had tender turkey, two stuffings, mashed potatoes, real cranberry sauce, roasted brussel sprouts cut fresh off the stalk (best I've ever had), green beans, some tasty pinot noir and sauvignon blanc, and two scrumpdelyicious Dessert Designs cakes (apple with caramel icing and coconut) with coffee.

The special part of dinner, great food aside, was the blessing and discussion as dinner began. The kids said grace, and then Kathy and I, on the same wavelength, thought we should go around the table and share what we are thankful for. We passed the kleenexes midway through. Dori, who went next to last, cried the whole way through her beautiful offering. She was rock solid strong during her gracious praise of everyone at the table, the staff at VUMC, the donor she does not know and the many who have come to her side with support. After the poignant moment, we laughed, drank and ate with youthful exuberance.

Dori has changed much this year, as have all in our family. Dori has been so selfless her whole life. She's definitely one of this world's great givers. Through this storm, I see a resolve and deeper appreciation in her now that sets the bar very high for the kids and me. The unachievable now looks achievable, while old fears are more easily vanquished. Each of us, as we said last night, is more in tune with what's important and what's not. We're closer than we've ever been. Our marriage has never been stronger.

Kathy, a breast cancer survivor, mentioned something from the Lance Armstrong book Dori and I read this year, that "we're the lucky ones." Count us fortunate because we've seen life through a lens that most have not. And we all agreed that has been this year's great gift from God. I personally believe Dori and I have been asked to look God in the eye and tell Him we're with Him and ask others to know of Him. He's also asked me to do better in everything I do.

At dinner, my Mom noted how my sister Anne says there are folks in this world "who get it" and "those who don't." I completely agree. I see people here on earth who do nothing but take, expect or whine. On the other hand, I have seen, up close and personal, people who are devoted to serving their fellow man in need. People like Melissa Red, our mother hen who has helped coordinate meals for us, who take care of other daily challenges, with a selflessness and total commitment to my bride's recovery. People like Elizabeth Antony, who check in to see how they can help us. People like Liz McConnell, whose husband emerged from his own cancer battle, who understand how to stay rock solid on course. People like Patricia Eastwood, who send Dori words of strength and encouragement. People like John Marcheschi, who bolster us in prayer and humor. People like our many friends at SBA and the Cathedral, who work quietly but diligently and selflessly to make sure my family is loved. The many people who have added their names to the Bone Marrow Donor Registry and give generously to the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. The many people we don't know who offer us up in prayer. And people like the doctors, nurses, care partners, cleaning and cooking staff, and others at VUMC who have been nurturing my girl back to health and a new life. Now that's a lot to give thanks for!

Dori is at the hospital this morning with Kathy. All is well, but we had a snafu late Wednesday with her catheter (one of three lines broke and she had to go the emergency room to get it cleaned and capped off). Dori will have her Hickman (heart port) replaced with a PICC line (arm) later today. We're at Day 44 ... and the road still has turns, we know. Thanks for the continuing prayers. We've heard many times how we inspire our friends, and know that we feel the same about all of you.

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Some of you know we attend Cathedral of the Incarnation, a special church between Vanderbilt and downtown. Last Sunday, Deacon Mark Faulkner, a good friend of ours, talked about how perseverance through hardship leads to a richer life, using Dori's experience as one example.

I hope you find his words as inspiring as we do.

Nov. 18, 2007Deacon Mark FaulknerCathedral of the Incarnation

Hardship ... will lead to your giving testimony. Even in death ... not a hair will be destroyed. PERSEVERANCE WILL SECURE YOUR LIFE.

1st of all, what is the LIFE that perseverance through hardship will lead to? As you might guess, it is NOT necessarily what many often value in this life. Just as the Temple was adorned with valuable stones and gilding and whitewash ... all that superficial stuff amounted to nothing when the temple was crumbled and destroyed. The LIFE that comes from persevering through hardship is a more substantive life ... a richer life ... a deeper life ... a grateful life that wells up in us.

St. John of the Cross in his book “Dark Night of the Soul” talks about the dawning of new and transcendent life that comes after living through a very dark time. He reminds us that our God promises that in spite of any current darkness, if we just try to persevere, there will ALWAYS be new and greater life following.

This has been a week of me witnessing dark nights almost everywhere I turned.

Melanie Nelson, a friend of mine for over 20 years, died on Wednesday after a 5-year battle with brain tumors ... and she battled with amazing, ever-buoyant hope. Melanie persevered.

Wes Caldwell, a business associate and friend I’ve worked with for over 10 years succumbed to cancer Thursday night ... but he did so with a peaceful, faithful candor about what was happening. Wes persevered.

And then our dear Bishop Niedergeses died Friday ... in spite of aging and a series of medical challenges, [he] remained to the end, a shining light of joyful gratitude and service. Bishop Niedergeses persevered.

Or a single mom with whom I was speaking, trying to deal with the anxieties of her kids, so badly effected by divorce, and the financial burdens that have ensued, and the frustrating lack of help for shouldering some of the most basic day to day tasks ... and yet, trudging forward with all the cheerfulness she can muster. She is persevering.

And our own Dori Brown from here at the Cathedral who has faced acute leukemia and mortality, and she is doing so with courage and determination, persevering one day at a time ... and savoring each moment of life. I’d like share just some brief notes Dori wrote as she continues to recover ...

[edited]

I didn't realize feeling good felt so good!

Our news to report is that my cells are continuing to slowly increase. The really great news is that my platelets are now growing without the help of transfusions.

After having been in the hospital over 2 months this summer, I have now been here again for another month ... and this stay has the most difficult physically. Heavy medications that take their toll, high fever that saps you, chemo-induced mouth sores and a throat too sore to swallow or talk, exhaustion and pain and nausea and rashes ... but ...

I found a nice quote from the diary of Anne Frank...

“I don't think of all the misery, but of all the beauty that still remains.”

I wish that I could say I've been fully living according to that inspirational message these past 30 days, but it’s been so tough. I do know that I finally see a light at the end of the tunnel and that is so welcome. I can't wait to walk back into our house, to be able to tuck the kids in bed, to sit on chairs that are not vinyl! To just be home.

After a very dark period, I do sense a light at the end of the tunnel ... Thank you for your support and prayers.

Love to all of you,Dori

Dori’s sense of light is correct ... that is what awaits us if we persevere, both in this world and in the next ... a brighter life after hardship or the BRIGHTEST life of heaven after death ... a brighter outlook, a brighter existence. A brighter appreciation ... if we persevere through the hardships.

I am very aware that some of you are facing challenges similar to a few of these I have referenced today ... death, disease, broken relationships, financial burdens ... . I know that all of us have our own challenges that are at varying levels of seriousness ... I know that each of these challenges are important and significant to us, even if small compared to those of others ... .

Father Fleming, our former pastor, would often say ... NEVER give up, NEVER lose hope! NEVER. GET UP! We stumble, we are tripped, we doubt, we fear, we fall ... just always get up ... always persevere ... always move forward ... doing so makes our lives a testimony to faith, a testimony to hope.

So, is how we are facing our own challenges “giving testimony”?

Is how we are handling our burdens indicating faith that, whether in life or in death, nothing is lost, not a single hair?

Saturday, November 17, 2007

Back home after a two-day business trip. It feels good to say that. I was able to make the important trip because Dori is improving and Dori's Caregiver Team is top notch! Mom, Anne and Dan ... YOU ARE THE BEST!

Dori's energy level continues to improve. A blood test shows her DNA is now 100% donor DNA. She'll have a biopsy Tuesday to confirm that and some other things, but go, Hans, go! Her appetite is improving and she's been given a tapered steroid schedule that will finish before Christmas, if all stays on track. Dori looks good and feels good, but certainly isn't 100%. She's pacing herself smartly. The kids are at some friends' house, so we're going for a walk in a bit with Pepper.

Tonight, friends of the Hendrys are having a bonfire celebration/auction in Franklin for Chuck and his family. I don't think I can make it because the kids will be home by then, and I need to be here. We're very happy Chuck is making great progress.

Vanderbilt plays UT in football in a few hours. My Florida prediction was a joke, and I think UT is going to handle us easily. Something like 31-13 or 24-10. Maybe I'll be wrong again, which would be nice.

I was able to run twice on the road, so I actually ran three times this week! After my six-mile Sunday run, I ran a fast 5K late Wednesday afternoon and a smooth 4-miler on Friday at dawn. I probably ran an 8:30 pace or lower on the 5K and about a 9:00 pace on the 4-miler. It felt good to run 13 miles this week. I did enter the Thanksgiving Boulevard Bolt on Belle Meade Blvd., though I'll have to watch my calf, which is bothering me again. Stretch and rest ... sound familiar?

I'm also considering running a full marathon in 2008. When this thought pops in my head, it usually goes away within a day because I recall the pain of a half marathon. For some reason, I've thought about a full three days in a row now. I definitely need to sort this out ... Dori said she'll support me if I run a full, but doesn't think it's a wise idea, given my muscle trouble. She's got a point. I think I would need to drop another 25 pounds and train even smarter to make it work so the stress is reduced. What's got me thinking is I raised $25K for LLS through my half, why not raise $50K through a full? I would do this at least a year after the Virginia Beach Half so there is no donor fatigue. I'll ruminate more over some dark beer and stuffing next week ... two of several reasons why Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday.

Sunday, November 11, 2007

This weekend has been wonderful. Dori is home and enjoying being with us again. Friday, when she came home, she was too tired to enjoy everything. She slept three hours and was quiet until dinner, when we all went to bed. We slept almost 12 hours! Halleluiah! Her smile returned yesterday and she has been soaking it all in since then.

The weekend hasn't been a typical weekend. Yesterday, Dori was at the clinic from 8-3:30. I took the first half and my Mom relieved me so I could take Will to the Vanderbilt-Kentucky game. Dori had to receive IVs potassium and magnesium, which took awhile, and the clinic staff had to spend time focusing on an older patient who was struggling. Last night, the kids went to the Predators hockey game with some friends from school, while Dori and I chilled out and watched football.

Speaking of Vanderbilt, the game yesterday was like Groundhog Day. I told my son as a Vanderbilt football fan, he'll have to expect experiencing the feeling of, "I've read that book and seen that movie many times." Our coaches, IMO, played not to lose, while the players left it on the field. At the end of the first half with a slim lead, we tried to run out the clock at midfield and then kick and play prevent defense. Things like that send a message to your team, almost like you don't trust them. Kentucky tied us before halftime and scored on the opening drive of the second half. Been there, seen that.

On a brighter note, I ran six miles this morning, my first run in three weeks. I went slow, figuring the amount of chocolate and cheese I've eaten the last month might have affected my conditioning. It was the right call. I ran just under a 10:00 minute pace to make sure I didn't tank. The terrain was moderate, temp was a comfortable 60 degrees and the humidity was about 30 percent. Fall running is the best.

The only time the last month I had done anything aerobic was walking with Dori in the hall at VUMC, running 11 flights of stairs one day at VUMC, and riding the bike and lifting at the Y a time or two. I'm not out of shape but not in shape either; I'm considering running the Boulevard Bolt Thanksgiving morning. That's probably my favorite race, so we'll see if I can get in a few runs beforehand.

I told Dori the last five months have felt like they have been both the slowest and fastest period of my life. Slowest for obvious reasons, but fastest because I've been in such a routine as a caregiver husband, father, mother, employee and half marathon trainer. That said, June felt like it was five years ago, not five months. Once I deployed for seven months in the Navy, and once I didn't see land or a port for 60 days. This chapter has seemed longer in some ways than those two excursions, except the routine part was much more intense on this year's "deployment."

Clearly, we are in a new chapter, to which we will adjust and press forward. I'm looking forward to it. The goal is to get to 100 days with Dori feeling back to her normal self, fresh with her newly rejuvenated bone marrow and strong immune system. That will be my Christmas prayer.

Tuesday, November 6, 2007

The last few posts about football probably reek of "me Tarzan, you Jane" maleness. So here's a photo of a flower, the aromatic aster or big aster, that's common to Tennessee. We have some blooming in our yard right now. As I was walking up the driveway last night, I spotted some aster, which immediately reminded me of Dori ... simple yet elegant, and a beautiful purple that is so Dori. When I read a description of the aster, I learned it's "drought-resistant." Not surprisingly, it's the only flower acting sassy in our yard right now after a miserable summer of heat and little rain. That's kind of how I feel right now ... it's been a rough five months, but I'm beginning to see beauty around me again. The aster represents much to me in November 2007 and probably will for some time.

Dori said she's beginning to see a light at the end of the tunnel. I certainly share that feeling. We know there are still risks in the first 100 days plus and the chance of relapse or complications exists. That's just reality. What's special is I detect Dori and I both, after facing such adversity and odds (I never shared those nor will I because I think odds are for minimalists and actuaries), are ready to get on with it all as she recovers. I expect many of those obstacles that seemed large pre-leukemia won't seem that way to us. We've been "Lanced" by cancer, though I'm not ready to predict any Tour de France victories. Besides, Dori is on plenty of steroids; she'd never pass a test in France for the rest of her life.

We do both think about her donor often, and I expect that will continue. Dori has written about what this giving 23-year-old male has meant to her. Reading it was like getting one of those ice pails of water dumped on you. At dinner tonight, Kathryn asked me about some of the pop culture divas, wondering why they get so much attention. This, of course, was a great "Dori question," but I stepped up to the plate. "Kathryn, some people in our media like to glorify the Paris Hiltons, Lindsey Lohans and Brittany Spears. Your Mom and I hope you and your brother choose to glorify God, and celebrate and honor those who are selfless, not self-centered." People like Dori's donor. Since he's from Europe, I'm calling him Hans until we hopefully meet him. That will be a glorious day.

Hope you enjoyed the aster and may God bless every one of you like he has the Browns this Thanksgiving.

Friday, November 2, 2007

I told Dori I think Vanderbilt has a chance to beat Florida tomorrow in the Swamp. Girl thinks Boy is crazy: "We're not going to win, Jim." Admittedly, this boy has had a bit too much Kommodore Kool-Aid in the past. Vanderbilt is flirtacious and a known heart breaker, we all know.

Look at the last five years, however, and Florida has struggled with VU when they have had good or great teams. This year, they have a good team that has been beaten up in succession by Auburn, LSU, Kentucky and Georgia, with no bye week. Here are some reasons I think this game will be close and could go the Commodores' way:

- The Gators are hurt on the defensive line, secondary and QB. Tebow is not 100%. Florida's D is nothing like last year's.- Florida has gone from competing for a national championship to competing for a decent bowl. Yawn.- Florida is a good match-up for the Dores. I was at last year's game and remember thinking these guys aren't outclassing us like in years past.- Vanderbilt has a speedy defense with strong cornerbacks, allowing other players to roam the field and hunt the ball. VU brings in the nation's No. 14 defense.- The Dores look like they can finally cover kicks, as well as return them. Alex Washington and D.J. Moore are going to bring one back soon.- We have receivers who can get open and make great plays.- VU is 6-7 on the road in recent games, and have wins against UT, Arkansas, UGA and USC. We play loose on the road.

Of course, concerns remain:

- Our QBs haven't really extended the field with their arms, and our running game is one-dimensional. VU's Dean of Arts & Sciences is considering adding a three-credit class, Conservative Play-Calling with Professor Ted Cain. Stopping us is pretty easy, if you're well coached. The gimpy Gators are.- VU's only bad loss this year was at Auburn, 35-7. The Dores looked lost against a charged team.- Our QB and offensive line output has been sub-par, making it difficult to score copious points. - We're prone to bad kharma against the Gators - the awful celebration call in 2005 and two blocked punts last year in the first quarter. The first five minutes are crucial to Vanderbilt's chances at the upset.

My astute seven-year-old son, unlike my wife, believes the Dores have a good chance. Several pundits on talk radio also are predicting a tight one. I see a very close contest. Something like, 27-23 or 24-17. I think the Dores have a 30% chance at the upset. The line started at an astonishing 17 points Monday and has moved down to 13-14 points, a significant move. The smart money recognized a bad line.

Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Time for some pics. I thought I would share some Halloween faces and a photo of Dori's visit last Sunday with the kids. Kathryn is a cat, while Will is VU star receiver Earl Bennett. Last Sunday's visit was the only time the kids have seen their Mom in two weeks, though they talk daily with her on the phone.

The kids are with family and friends the next three nights, so tonight I'm alone with the dog. Talk about quiet! Tonight is the first night in two weeks Dori will be without a room companion at VUMC. She promised me she will buzz the nurses when she gets up, so I'm counting on her to use all resources. She'll enjoy being alone for the first time in weeks, as well.

So when it's finally quiet, what do you do? You pay bills, balance the checkbook, celebrate the washer and dishwasher not running, eat a few brownies, and blog, brothers and sisters!

First, I'll share words I never use ... that I'm proud about something I did. It just sunk in what I accomplished at the Virginia Beach Half Marathon last month. Yes, out of 17,000 runners, I finished 4,000-and-something and ran a PR. Not bad for a big 42-year-old. But I finished FIRST out of 487 fund-raising participants, according to the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, in funds raised for LLS at the VB Half Marathon. Dori, you inspired me and a lot of people to do a lot of good, and there's more where that came from.

I'm loving my new role at work. I'm not going to go in to detail for a few reasons, but I'll share my employer has been very supportive of me through our life challenges. What's fun right now ... When you find a passion and a fit, you just want to achieve and excel. I'm in that groove at work, though I often think of Dori when I am working. Because of technology and family and friend support, I have been able to multi-task and perform most of my functions while maintaining a near-constant watch at home and the hospital. Of course, I don't get to jog like I once did or much else that's relaxing, for that matter. But hey, that's temporary and where life is right now. I have been dreaming about taking Dori and the kids on the beach trip I promised them this summer. Skiing in Steamboat over a long weekend would be nice, too. Bitter ale, elk and buffalo sausage, and some snow would be good.

Does it get any better than the community at St. Bernard Academy? God has blessed us by having our children there. The list of exceptional folk is a long one. I heard tonight from a friend (jokingly) that we're at that "liberal Catholic school." If liberal means loved, cherished, appreciated and embraced, we're in. My hat is off to the many SBA people who have stepped up to make this year bright on other fronts as Dori tackles leukemia.

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

I have tried to keep an even keel through everything that Dori, the kids and I are experiencing. When the lows have hit, I've tried to stay positive; when the highs visited, I've tried to stay grounded. Last week was a week of many lows. Now, the tide seems to be turning.

Dori has some strength back and is making slow, steady progress. She did some of her exercises today that she couldn't even think of doing last week. Her laps on her walks are steadily increasing. She's getting anxious to get out of VUMC, not just out of bed to the bathroom. We know Dori is going to face many more obstacles, but it's good to be emerging from Hell Week with an increasing amount of good news.

Dr. Greer is encouraged by Dori's progress. Her white blood cell counts are rising, her fever is all but gone and the early view on graft versus host disease is the symptoms are mild (a faint arm and chest rash so far). We will know more soon after her gastro-intestinal endoscopy results come back later today or tomorrow. She might be able to go home in the near future if she stays on this course and after she begins to eat decently. I have been thinking a lot about the 23-year-old donor somewhere overseas lately. I truly do hope he and Dori get to meet next year. We will be eager to thank him for his selflessness and gift of life.

I like the fact Dori is in the room Cecil, the 70-year-old patient, inhabited this summer. Cecil, a retired minister, was the only person on the bike as much as Dori during July's dog days. He never wavered facing his disease and was a favorite among the staff, like Dori. His vibe is still alive in Room 19.

I received a nice letter from the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society the other day. They mentioned my Make Cures Happen campaign at the Virginia Beach Half Marathon was the top fund-raising effort this year. They had our effort down for $15,000, but we were more like $22,000 officially and maybe even hit $25,000 total (I didn't pry asking what some donated). LLS trained 331 Team in Training runners while 156 people were part of the Make Cures Happen program. LLS raised more than $1 million at the race and the MCH effort garnered $87,500. Funds raised "will support research, public education, patient aid, community service and professional education." Quality of life for patients and families were boosted by all of you who contributed in Dori's honor. I have seen Dori personally benefit through some of the clinical trials of which she's a part, including a drug for mouth sores. THANK YOU AGAIN, EVERYONE!

Oh, yes. I haven't run in nearly two weeks. That may change, as the kids have some sleepovers soon and Dori may have enough strength to be by herself. That would be another sign things are headed in the right direction.

Friday, October 26, 2007

As noted on CaringBridge today, this week will not soon be forgotten. We're all happy it's over and that a new week has begun.

Starting late last Friday, Dori's condition started sliding. After a very difficult Saturday and Sunday, Dori gradually came out of the valley. Dori told me today she didn't think she was going to make it through last Saturday (severe nausea, chills, bloody phlegm, etc.). That was a "wow." I then asked her what helped her climb out of the trough, and she said, "God," and then "You and the kids." Good priorities, if you ask me.

Fortunately, she says she doesn't remember much from the last seven days. I wish I could forget it. Seeing your true love go through hell (the right term) is taxing. You feel helpless almost constantly. I've heard the following many times and said it a few ... that God has equipped our species to go through things like this. True, but it is difficult to watch what Dori is experiencing. But as one of the care partners said today while she was walking, "Good times are coming, Dori." That's what Dori said God has promised her.

The kids are doing relatively well. They are still laughing and playing, and doing well in school. I firmly believe they are watching their parents stare down fear and anxiety and trying hard to emulate our actions. They haven't seen Dori since Sunday, when Dori was in rough shape. Seeing Mom in pain made Will cry. It hurts to write that a week later. Kathryn has woken a few times just wanting to talk. I've heard the kids and Dori all talking in their sleep, and Lord knows what I'm muttering after the lights go out. It all adds up and takes its toll, and you do nothing but face it.

I am in total awe of my wife. She is a warrior. She is a leader and has shown her family and circle of influence how to respond to adversity. After Vanderbilt beat South Carolina last Saturday, the Sunday headline said, "Vandy rises to test." I thought, "That should read 'Dori' instead of 'Vandy.'" She is selfless, courageous, spirited, calm and grounded in goodness. I complement her with reassurance and the resolve to accept nothing less than victory. She deserves nothing less. Also of note, our solid marriage has never been stronger. I ask God every day to let us carry on together to the next chapter, and I know many more are asking the same.

I'm not exhausted, but I'm starting to feel it. It's that raw feeling when you haven't had enough rest or personal time. I haven't run, which has been my panacea, in more than a week. That's too bad, since the weather is perfect for some 5-6 mile runs. Duty calls.

I have to vent a little, something I haven't done much. I don't believe it's healthy to waste reserves on negative stuff. That said, I think the caregiver class we took before Dori was readmitted was irrelevant to our experience. Most of it was a rehash of what I read from the National Marrow Donor Program's handbook. There were no "real-life" examples of what you might expect or things that have hindered or hurt patients in the past ... and to what challenges or pitfalls caregivers should be alert. I won't list that here, but suffice it to say my Mom and I have shared general impressions with some staff we trust and will be delivering specifics at the appropriate time so other families can be aware and alert, if they so choose. It certainly would have helped us plan and prepare better. Quite a few organizations (and people) tend to present information through their own eyes and not their audience's (customers, patients and caregivers, etc.).

Monday, October 22, 2007

Dori is in the most critical part of her battle, according to Dr. Greer this morning.

This weekend has been hell for Dori ... she is coughing up bloody phlegm and having trouble with dry blood causing severe congestion; she is queasy and occasionally sick, and her mouth and stomach are sore. She hasn't had solid foods since last week; her IV of nutrition is hooked up, but she did need an insulin shot last night to help processing. She's at Day Plus 12 since the bone marrow transplant, and has at least another week of this until engraftment. It is difficult to watch, so much so that we're discouraging visitors and that means the kids, too, unfortunately.

Most folks who know Dori well would barely recognize her right now. She is puffy all over and barely and rarely opens her eyes. She still hasn't complained a lick. Women are so much stronger than men. That is now clear to me. My greatest concern is Dori getting up on her own while she's so heavily medicated. She already fell last week, and is wobbly when she gets up to go the bathroom. Last night, she got up five times, two times without alerting me. Since I'm "sleeping" with one eye open, I immediately bounced up both times to escort her. She simply cannot fall right now.

To say all of this wears on you is an understatement. At some point, I'm going to have a good cry ... and down the road, hopefully a good laugh. I am forever grateful to the positive reassurances and support we're getting from expected and unexpected places. Our family members have been terrific, to no one's surprise; our friends, new and longtime, are stepping up with our children and by watching Dori this week.

I didn't really want to chronicle all this, but I felt I should for one reason ... that we can look back on this with clarity to recall what we endured and to live out our lives with zeal to fulfill His expectations. Dori is simply enduring hell on earth to get to a better place.

Saturday, October 20, 2007

Pretty good photos of the kids running, eh? Thanks to their great coach, Kathy Dortch, for these photos. Both Will and Kathryn improved throughout the season and learned a lot about themselves. Kathryn has good running form, while Will is very consistent with pace. Neither gave in on the hot days, and both bonded with teammates.

Thanks to our friend, Marian Kohl, who took the kids to Cheekwood yesterday with her girls, I had a few hours' free time late yesterday. If you guessed I went running, you win. I ran 5.5 miles on moderate terrain in perfect weather. Low humidity and dewpoint ... it was barely warm in the sun and cool in the shade. My pace was slow, but I wanted to breathe easy and enjoy it all.

I did so, except right at the end of mile one. To avoid inhaling some gas fumes and grass clippings churned into the air by a lawn guy, I held my breath for a few seconds. When I felt I'd cleared the swath of tainted air, I opened my mouth wide to take a deep breath. Immediately, a large insect, probably a big fly, slammed into the back of my throat. "CODE RED," I thought. I gagged, spit and attempted to eject the intruder. I'm not sure I did, but I used half my water in the process. The incident didn't ruin my run, but I'm sure I was the sight for a minute or two.

One thought on my run was how the half marathon training prepared me for managing this chaos I'm experiencing personally. Right now, I essentially have two jobs, and am a father, pseudo-mother and caregiver to Dori with all the associated duties. We may not think it, but we are equipped to do all of this, even though some days are difficult (Friends and family help, even though they often say they're not doing much). But when duty calls, you step up, as my friend Al likes to say. Buy-in to the mission is essential to handling the stress and anxiety.

Anyhoo, half-marathon training this summer was a God-send. I never took off one day, except at the end when I was injured and could not run. Some days, I woke up at 4:15 and said to myself, "This is crazy. I can't believe I'm about to go running this early." Before some afternoon runs in extreme summer heat, I mumbled internally, "Jez, Jim, are you serious? It's 98 degrees outside." But to succeed, there are no off days from the schedule. That's what Dori is counting on from me, and I am damn determined not to let her, or my children, down. I experience personal failings sometimes (impatience among several), but am able to regroup pretty quickly, in part because of the training.

I only ran eight miles this week, but every mile helps me cope better. So thanks, Marian, for the reprieve and the energy boost.

I'm hoping to catch a little college football today. Vanderbilt plays 7th ranked South Carolina, a team that usually pushes us around. Maybe we can push back for a change. Go Dores.

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

These are some of my friends at my 20th year reunion at Vanderbilt. Dori encouraged me to spend some time at the festivities and have fun, so I did after some abbreviated QT with her at the hospital both Friday and Saturday before heading to campus.

Many of my friends were fun and pretty cool 20 years ago, but today they're more than just cool - they're mature, kind people, and often hilarious or witty. I saw many folks I hadn't seen in years. Most everyone looked like they did 20 years ago, with an added wrinkle or two and some receding hairlines. Most folks seem to be staying in good shape, bucking the trend of the rest of the nation.

I stayed out way past my bedtime on Friday, even though I hit the brakes more than the gas pedal, if you know what I mean. After a few beers, I spotted a table with some Krispy Kremes and some coffee that seemed like the right call. On Saturday, I pressed the gas pedal just a smidge, though I called it an early night after the VU-Georgia game. Yes, Vandy lost a game they could have won (ever seen Groundhog Day with Bill Murray?). But who cares, really? I've got much bigger fish frying these days.

Kathryn and Will, as we noted yesterday on CaringBridge, are doing very well in school. This has been a good year for them, though I don't ever remember having the amount of homework Kathryn has in 4th grade. Dori's sister, Kathy, will be here this weekend. I'm looking forward to seeing her, and so is Dori. Kathy will carve pumpkins with the kids. I'm thinking some churching will be good after some very hectic weekends to start the fall.

It rained today. Yes, that is blogworthy. Nashville is in a severe drought. I called my sister this morning, and - as once heard on Star Trek - queried, "What is this thing your people call 'rain'"? She laughed only a second and got excited. "It's raining? That's great!"

I haven't really been running much. I ran five miles on the Stones River Greenway one day last week for a weekly total of just under nine miles. The clip was brisk, but not fast ... about an 8:35 pace. I ran an easy 2.5 miles today at lunch. I'm very sore for some reason (probably a combination of lack of rest and stretching, the need for new running shoes, and just being worn down).

This really is my first change to blog in a week. I am much busier right now than I was this summer, and summer was busy. Each day is going by quickly, which I look at as one day closer to Dori's being cured of leukemia.

Hello from Jim

Welcome to my blog, Run for Dori. My wife, Dori, passed away in June 2011 from leukemia (AML) after a determined four-year battle. Please consider supporting several programs (listed below) dedicated to finding a cure for blood cancers and assisting patients and families. Please consider registering with the National Marrow Donor Program that helped save her life in 2007.